


Nervous Stares

by allysparkling



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Champion Shiro (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Imprisonment, One Shot, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Suffering, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allysparkling/pseuds/allysparkling
Summary: Theres a kinship that comes among those who are going through a bad situation together. But Shiro's not sure he deserves that anymore.





	Nervous Stares

His whole body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been fighting for days- perhaps he _had_. Time has lost its meaning to Shiro. They didn’t keep him with others very often. He noticed, it was only when they took him somewhere other than the usual arena.

The dull chatter fell instantaneously as the door was opened. He was given the luxury of sitting down by himself, instead of being thrown onto the ground as usual; he supposed he should be thankful for that.

His feelings about being kept with others were… mixed. When he was alone, the silence was deafening. It was just him and his thoughts, and the cold metal floor. But ever since he started fighting, it was calming compared to the bloodthirsty roar of the arena.

Before, he could talk to them. He was one of them, after all. They would tell him about the universe, about how the Galra spread like a plague, taking prisoners like themselves. They spoke of the far-away planets they hailed from- some as new to the Galra as he, some suffering under their rule for eons. He would tell them about Earth, his home, his family, the Garrison; the fact that they hadn’t even confirmed the existence of life outside Earth yet. That one got a laugh out of most.

Now it was different. They looked at him in fear. Shaky gazes darted away as soon as they met his own; they dared to utter no words but hushed whispers when they thought they were out of earshot.

The realization came often with a sickening feeling that they were not just staring at the infamous champion- but his bloodsoaked skin, dyed with the muted shades of muted lives. He wanted to vomit. They startled when he moved, but there was nothing he could do about that. His fingernails were caked with dirt, scratching the coagulated blood off his arms, chest, legs, face. It came off easily when it was dried like that- yet he didn’t have the energy to be thorough.

Arms wrapped across his chest, defeated. There was no point to trying. 

Despite his better judgement, his eyes shifted again to look at those around him. Again, they looked away in fear. He wanted to reach out to them. He wanted them to know he wasn’t going to hurt them for looking at him like that. To tell them, _he’s not a monster._

But he can’t lie. Not to them. Not to himself.

He closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a one-shot for a plot bunny that popped into my head, mainly to practice my writing!


End file.
